"Have you seen this girl?"
"Oh dear God! What happened to her wrists? I wish I could help you, but 'fraid I can't mate."
"If you see this girl, may you tell her where I am? I'll always be waiting, at that house."
"Ermm- Alright, I suppose. Best of luck to you young gun."
"Hello Miss. Take a minute to look at this face?"
"Don't know who that is. Sorry."
"Excuse me- Does she long familiar?"
"Wow! She's a real dish! Ah- But, no, haven't seen her around lad."
"Sir! Please. Have you seen this girl?"
"I really-- I- I must be going- Sir, stop harassing me."
"No I insist! It's only a second! Please. I'm not harassing!"
This was a normal afternoon for Steven. Every afternoon was filled of determination, sighs, then disappointment . As usual, he'd wait 'til the streets filled with traffic, then he'd stand in the corner with his most recent picture of the queen of his thoughts. He'd been doing this since he was twelve years old. Some payed attention to him, others didn't. In the end, no one recognized the beautiful woman, and Steven's hopes seemed smaller. But by the next day, he was determined to continue.
"I think I know who that is!" Steven heard from behind.
His eyes opened wide with eagerness and anticipation.
"Finally!" Steven thought.
He swung around, only to see his landlord- Ernest Hannah. A wicked smile was on his lips, and Steven could only shake his head in disgust.
"Hello tenant." he laughed heartily.
"Shut up." Steven rolled his eyes.
"Have you no shame Avendale? They all think you're a mad man; you do this every day!" Ernest groaned.
"And I will continue to. I guess I'm mad after all."
"You should be at Bedlam." Ernest muttered under his breath.
"I have no money. How else shall I pay for a doctor to recommend my admittance there?" Steven asked.
"Perhaps you could be selling those paintings for money-- Instead of building a shrine in your home." Ernest added.
"There is no shrine!" Steven spat.
"It's exquisite detail. Why, I'd buy it m'self. How much?" Ernest asked.
"Not for sale." Steven sighed.
"Excuse me, have you seen this face before?" Steven asked to a woman passing by. She shook her head, and Steven returned his focus back on Ernest.
"Have you the rent?" Ernest asked.
"It ain't due today." Steven answered.
"I say it is." Ernest chuckled.
"You can't do that!" Steven gasped in horror.
"Says who?," Ernest provoked with a grin. Steven only stared. "Poor artsy boy. . ." Ernest tsked. "I pity you so much. No. Just kidding. Pay up."
"But-- I can't-" Steven began to say.
"Tell you what!," Ernest cut in with a smile. "You sell me that picture, and I'll give you two months for the next payment."
"No."
"Why ever not?" Ernest gasped.
"Because I say so."
"I'll take away your home!" Ernest threatened.
Steven snorted.
"You can't do that."
"I say I can."
"No-- You can't."
"Well who the deuce is going to stop me?"
"This is ridiculous. Why are you picking on me?"
"I heard about your 'girl of your dreams'. The one who consumes you, or whatever rubbish it is they say-- Anyway, I heard she saved Mr. Laurie's life. And his son's! On- Actually, on more than once occasion if I recall. A young man named Mr. Maude is telling everyone the news, and I'm telling you, you could be rich. That's the girl, here you are, I want that picture."
Steven was at a loss for words.
This was only a dream.
How could Gilbert have betrayed him like that? 'Course he couldn't have! He was Steven's best friend. Wasn't he? Yes, yes. He was. It must have been another Mr. Maude. That was the only reasonable explanation.
"No. . . People know about the paintings? Well, no sensible person would actually believe they have any sort of 'powers'. Right?" Steven thought.
He gripped his hair and looked at Ernest.
"So you're only threatening to evict me, because you heard of my art's so called 'powers'- The power to save lives- And, you want the 'power' for yourself?" Steven asked slowly.
"Correct." Ernest answered simply.
"If you evict me, you won't have my art either way." Steven pointed out.
"But I'll sleep better at night knowing you'll have no place to go Avendale." Ernest smiled.
"That's cruel." Steven sighed.
"I don't care."
"But-- The-- Oh please! Mr. Hannah, it's not true! I swear it isn't! I shan't ever be late for another payment in my life. . . But you can't do this to me. They're false accusations!"
How Steven despised begging. It seemed to kill him a little inside every time he even thought of it. Yet here he was: Begging.
"How do I know they're false accusations? Hell, how does anyone else know?! That's just the thing. They don't know for a fact and have no proof. Listen Avendale, there's no reason now that you've been late for so many payments! When all this time you could've sold these 'magic' paintings-- Are you kidding me? Say this picture's magical instead of asking about some wench no one recognizes. Anyone would buy it. The lie, and the painting. Just sell me this one right now, for instance. I'll give you an offer you can't refuse."
"No." Steven sighed, shaking his head.
"The more you refuse, the more my offer will go down."
"I don't want to hear your offer! This shall not be sold! It's not magical! I swear it!" Steven yelled.
"Very well then. You leave me with no other choice than to--"
"H-How much?" Steven asked, gritting his teeth.
"How much what?" Ernest inquired.
"How much will you give me?"
"Oh no sir, my offer has just been refused by you. It's too late now." he sighed sarcastically.
"Just-- How much?"
Ernest shrugged.
"Dunno. One pound?"
"Get away! One pound?!!! Preposterous! Absolutely not!! Surely Mr. Hannah, you must be joking. No one in their right mind would think- Do you believe that this gorgeous face is worthy of one bloody pound?! I-"
"You won't have to pay me for quite a while either."
Steven shut his mouth.
"You don't say?," he asked softly. "For how long?"
"A while." Ernest repeated.
Steven scratched his head.
"That's all I'm revealing." Ernest added.
Steven reluctantly handed the painting over to the smiling fool, and had a small golden coin pressed into his hand.
"Should've taken my other offer. It was much better- Could've made you rich boy."
And just before leaving, Mr. Ernest Hannah tussled Steven's hair, and laughed. He then proceeded to walk away with a bounce of joy in every step he took. He was safe from goats, at least, that's all Steven knew. Eternal life was not guaranteed- And not even possible! Suddenly Steven realized the reason he had just given up one of his most prized possessions, and why innocent people are thinking Steven's art could save lives. The reason was Gilbert.
"Just wait 'til I get a hold of him." Steven thought darkly.
"Gilbert!!!!" Steven pounded on the door.
"I- I refuse to open." Gilbert croaked.
"Open this bloody door right now pretty-boy!" Steven bellowed.
He waited for Gilbert's answer, which took a few minutes to receive.
"N- No." he said querulously.
Steven pounded on the door even harder.
"Now, I say! Open it now! You piss-poor, good for nothing--!"
"I don't want to die!"
"Gilbert!"
"What did I do?"
"Perhaps I'll spare you if I see your face, now open the door!"
Gilbert ran towards the door, unlocked it, and ran as far away as possible.
"Now now Steven- Don't get into a paddy." Gilbert gulped.
Steven gave him a deadly glare.
"St-Stop gawping. I feel anxious- Steven please!"
"You told my landlord. My landlord. Why on earth would you tell my bloody landlord you bloody plank?! Oh so now you two are just the best of friends that tell each other everything? Blast it all Gilbert! Did you forget I specifically told you to drop it?!I almost got evicted!"
"Oh my God! You lost your house?" Gilbert asked.
"No. I had to give up one of my paintings to keep it." Steven muttered.
"I'm flabbergasted. Y- You're lying. I know you are. You're lying. Seriously Steven? You lost one bloody picture? I'll draw you a replacement! How about that?"
"Shut your pie-hole! Alright? You had no right to tell him! And, according to Mr. Hannah, you told quite a few others too! Soon I'll have a mob outside my house! Hell, I'll have the whole bloody country! Perhaps the King and Queen shall be appearing too!"
"Relax Steven! I was just trying to help you!"
"You did the exact opposite Gilbert. You didn't listen to what I told you. I knew something bad was going to happen- This is only the beginning. I'm sure of it."
"You're ridiculous."
"No you're ridiculous!! And don't bloody talk to me anymore!" Steven yelled, and slammed the door behind him.
Clementine winced.
"Did you hear that?" she whispered to the guard.
"Hear what?" he asked.
"The door being slammed. . ." she answered.
The guard gave Clementine a puzzled look, then shook his head.
"Can't say I did."
"Oh." she whispered.
"Hell. Maybe I am crazy."